All's Well That Ends Well
by adventures of edith and sylvia
Summary: When Penelope Garcia starts working for the infamous Derek Morgan, she unlocks more than she bargained for. (Joint account of CeeCee333 and FreelySheRoams).
1. Chapter 1

The crisp autumn air barely phased the brooding man with the deceptively charming grin as he leaned against the hood of his sleek black Audi R8; waiting – and for someone with his easily angered temperament, quite patiently; for the chirpy real estate agent he had spoken with over the phone to show up.

Normally looking at properties wouldn't be such an oddity, but considering it was twenty one minutes past midnight on the deserted outskirts of Washington D.C, it would seem rather strange to most people. After all, he was a very busy man. Being the owner of several successful businesses and not having time during the day to shuffle around from property to property, he had his assistant contact several high end real estate agencies and finally found one that met his requirements.

Wanting an estate that had the comfort and familiarity of antique objects; the older the better in his opinion, and privacy – a definite must for someone who was a staple in the financial world, hoping to find a place that couldn't be easily seen from the street. Honestly, he felt his needs were pretty cut and dry, and had no desire to budge for anything less than what he was asking.

Though he may not be a celebrity, in the world of money, Derek Morgan's name was well known even if very few people could match a face to the legend - priding himself on always being elusive, but well sought out.

Pulling out his pocket watch: the intricate golden design alerting him that another ten minutes had passed. Craning his neck, stretching the taut muscle; biding his time by looking beyond the rustic, wrought iron gate, covered with the heavy decaying vines of ivy. Something he already appreciated as well as the long winding, gravel driveway, which he quickly estimated to be almost a mile long.

The clouds that were blocking direct moonlight had moved, revealing more details of the property – discovering gigantic oak trees that must have been at least three stories tall, with snarled and twisted branches that barely rustled in the wind.

Minutes later Derek was still looking at the trees when he heard two quick honks and saw a set of bright headlights pointed in his direction. Controlling his reaction to cover his eyes; narrowing them instead as the midsize sedan parked a few feet behind Derek's sports car.

A woman with a complexion quite similar to his own stepped out of her car; holding a briefcase under one arm and a large key that looked like it fit in the gate in her other hand – giving him a simple once over, before tossing him a teasing little smirk.

"Hello, Mr. Morgan. I hope you weren't waiting too long for me," Tamara Barnes said.

"Not at all. I was just admiring the landscape," throwing her a charming smile; instantly picking up the scent of her fruity perfume that had him itchy with dislike – being the type of man who preferred the aroma of vanilla and jasmine on a woman.

"Well Mr. Morgan, as soon as I get the gate open, we can drive on up, and I can walk you around the property," raising one of his expressive brows as she almost dropped the key; awkwardly giggling as she tried to composes herself – only to clear her throat when she almost fumbled the briefcase.

"That sounds fine. You know it doesn't make sense to take two cars up. You can ride in with me if you'd like," offering her a cajoling smile; flashing his dimples – a true seducer, through and through.

"If you don't mind, then I don't see why not," doe-like eyes glimmering with trust; blinking at him, fervently nodding her head in approval.

"Here, let me see that. I'd hate for you to ruin your pretty dress with that old gate," Derek said as he took the heavy key from Tamara; inserting it with a gentle force, easily pushing the bulky gate open as if it weighed nothing.

Glancing briefly at the full moon, he walked around the front of his car to open the passenger door for Tamara; who eagerly got in and gave him a shy smile in return. Quickly getting in on his side, he began the long drive up the road leading to the estate; enjoying the soothing crunch of gravel beneath the tires.

Tamara pointed out several things that would appeal to his requirements. Pleased that he was right when he guessed that the driveway was a mile long and very far from the street; listening intently as she revealed that the trees covering the estate were at least two hundred years old – a fact, he tried to seem impressed with considering half of them were rotted and would need to be trimmed or cut down.

Several minutes later the pair finally made it to the front of the expansive estate. Stepping out of the vehicle Derek's glimmering amber eyes perused the dark grey, and obviously archaic manor, noticing the giant bay windows; reminding himself to tell his assistant to get those covered before he moved in. Taking one quick look around him; hoping the furniture inside was less tacky than the miscellaneous patio furniture that littered the overgrown yard – not that he had a budget, but he clearly was going to need to spend more money to get this place up to his standards.

Gesturing around at the ginormous space around them "So, will there be a…," tucking a caramel curl behind her ear; batting her lashes at him, "a missus Morgan joining you."

Having expected that question, his face was already poised in a warm smile, shaking his head as he checked his watch, pointing to the large wooden door with the ornate lion knocker. "Shall we."

Grinning at him, waving the keys around. "Oh, yes! I can't wait to show you around," fumbling with the keys for a bit, unsure of which dangling one would work. "Got it!"

The door creaked open, forcing a warm gust of breeze to swoosh by, flooding his senses with the distinct smell of musty sandalwood. Not waiting for his eyes to adjust he walked right in, turning right; entering what he assumed to be was an old parlor room, ignoring Tamara's warnings as she searched for the lights.

"Mr. Morgan?" voice a bit pitchy, uncomfortable with the sudden darkness; the blue hue of the moon adding a creepy aura to the estate at night – something he found very appealing. "Please be careful! Oh, found them!"

"It's perfect down here," emerging from a small study from the left. "How many bedrooms are upstairs?" already heading up the wide mahogany staircase.

"How did you get-…" eyes wide in confusion, quickly running in her heels to keep up with him. "Um, I think...," flipping through her binder, long manicured nail running across the pages. "Um, oh okay, well there are seven on this floor. Four smaller rooms on the first floor, and a guest house out back," trying to catch her breath while he quickly peered through each room.

Taking a moment to admire the master bedroom; the onyx and crimson of fabrics blended magnificently with the dark mahogany paneling – displaying the giant king sized bed with the aged, but sturdy iron headboard. The glass and granite fireplace, with shimmering crystals stood against the wall leading to the master bathroom. Catching sight of the starburst mirror hanging above the bed, he was able to see the long clawfoot tub and waterfall shower; subconsciously licking his teeth at the pleasures he would be seeking inside the baroque mosaic retreat.

Right when she found the page with all the information, excited to offer him some insight into the newly refurbished room only to frown when he swiftly turned around.

"Is there an attic," waiting as she searched the pages, his patience thinning with her disorganization. He didn't like to waste his time after all – call it, a pet peeve of his.

"Yes it has one, there's also a basement," smiling; batting those fake lashes once again. "But, are you sure you don't want to check out the bedroom first? I mean it has all new furniture. We can try out the bed," she looked away; a shrill cackle springing forth from her overly glossed lips. "Oh, gosh! I didn't mean it like that," gently tapping his bicep, squeezing firmly.

"I would like to see the basement," eyes narrowed; amber glittering obsidian, walking back down the stairs.

"Oh, okay!" huffing in irritation; snapping her binder closed as she slowly trailed behind him. "It's going to be at the end of the hall on the right," going through the ring of keys once more. "I mean there's nothing really down there, just an old well. It might even be dried up at this point," eyes widening at her realtor mistake. "Well I mean, I'm sure it works…or…we can get it fixed."

The end of the hall was built out of brick and portraits of families from decades ago hung along the walls; their eyes seeming to follow you no matter where you stepped – stopping once more until she could open the black wooden door with bolted locks. Getting the first one open she tried once more to change his mind. "There's a library behind the study? And an arboretum off the nook next to the kitchen? We haven't even seen the best parts,"

Sensing her nerves; it was almost one in the morning after all, and basements had the tendency to be foreboding – he took a step closer until her back was nestled against his front, breathing hot air into her dark curls. "Nothing to worry 'bout _Tamara_ …I just want to check it out. I have a lot of storage I need to keep _safe_."

Her petite frame stiffened, only to relax when he smiled those dimples at her; reassuring her that they would check out the rest of the property right after. Another moment of fiddling with keys; they finally unlocked the door, which he had to jimmy open, nearly tripping over the first step.

Gas lamps flickered to life; revealing the narrow stone staircase; the familiar oaky vanilla sweetness of wine wafted over them and he couldn't help but smile – grabbing her hand and quickly taking the long trip down to the bottom.

His eyes were wide with wonder, as she squinted; waving her hands frantically around to get rid of cobwebs, glancing around the floor for any rodents.

A stack of barrels lined one wall; the old equipment that made his beloved alcohol was rusted and useless, but the architecture behind it was simply fascinating – another thing he would put time in to fix up, and make proper use of.

Around the corner, against the far wall; behind old pillars – stood the massive cobblestone well.

"So here it is," binder folded closely to her chest, bouncing from heel to heel. "Is it, okay?"

Peering into the dark depths; fishing into his pockets, lighting the match; eyes smoldering as he dropped the little flame – pleased to see an endless descent. "Oh, it's…perfect."

Audibly sighing in relief, though her fear elicited a throaty groan from his lips – beads of sweat pooling between his furrowed brows as he tried to tamp down his arousal…body tingling with hunger.

He had missed dinner after all.

"Tamara," whispering her name, startling her as he wrapped one muscled arm around her waist.

"Thank you," face pressed into her curls, other hand soothing circles on her back. "For finding me this place."

"I-It…was no…problem," panting; leaning her head back against his shoulder – easily transfixed, with the sway of his hips as he rocked her back and forth.

"There's just one _little_ …thing."

"Hmm," eyes closing, blissfully unaware.

"You're in my way," his voice had dropped; the menacing tone causing her eyes to fly open.

Before Tamara could take in her next breath, the life had already escaped her body. Droplets of blood covered the cement floor; the pungent smell of copper mixing with the acerbic tang of liquor.

Lifting her body with ease, he sat her on the edge of the well; closing her bloodshot eyes, tucking a few soft tendrils behind her ear.

"Donec iterum convenient," whispering like a prayer; kissing her on the forehead – and then he let her go.

Taking but a brief moment, wiping the sticky crimson spatter off his face; he grabbed his phone – making demands to his assistant as he left the chill of the basement.

 **A/N** _ **Donec iterum convenient**_ **: Until we meet again.**


	2. Chapter 2

One year later…

A prickling shiver ran down his spine; forcing the young, lanky man to gather his old pea coat at the collar as he continued the long walk up the slippery cobblestone path leading to the back of the Morgan estate. Cursing himself for forgetting his wool gloves as the howling wind bit at his fingertips. Glancing around; catching sight of the flickering shadows of the ancient rustling trees that surrounded the manor. The eerie yellow glow of the full moon; peeking through the storm clouds, forcing him to quicken his pace.

On nights like this Spencer Reid was grateful that he had a quaint, though slightly cluttered cottage on the edge of the property – considering there was plenty of space for all of his literature, knick knacks, trinkets, and not to mention his magic kits; his home was basically perfect, though the hike to get back was quite a workout.

A sense of warmth washed over him as he got closer to the massive estate, and he couldn't help the appreciative smile from appearing; knowing that Derek's trusted housekeeper kept a fire going in order to keep the offices from freezing, and on nights like this she always kept a freshly brewed pot of coffee on the old iron stove. Something the genius would need to get through the night, especially with the weight of the magazine that he had tucked securely into his coat, urging him forward.

Reaching the back door that led to the kitchen; doing his usual quick, rhythmic knock, before patiently waiting as he bounced from foot to foot; grateful when Anya finally opened the door. The aroma of her savory fisherman's soup wafted over him; the distinct smoky spice of paprika flooded his senses and as he took a deep breath in, he also discovered her famous sugary sweets; watering his dry mouth and awakening his hunger.

"Dear get in here before you freeze to death," Anya chided; ushering him inside – chuckling when she reprimanded him in her thick Serbian accent, something about him being a silly man that was determined to freeze to death.

The woman was barely over five feet and her long, dark locks; with wisps of silver were typically pinned in a tight knot atop her head – giving her a fierce presence, that went perfectly with her headstrong and no bullshit demeanor, though her dark emerald eyes; filled with warmth and amusement, revealed her loving motherly instinct.

Anya took Spencer's coat, hanging it on a coatrack by the door and quickly offered him a hot cup of coffee; flashing her signature toothy smile, that little gold tooth winking at him even under the dim lights.

"A little warning Spencer, he's in quite the foul mood tonight," she tutted; giving him a plate with double fudge chocolate chip cookies; smacking his hands away when he greedily reached out for them.

"What set him off this time?" sighing; letting his shoulders slump as he dropped the magazine on the pristine, granite counter top and took a seat on the raised bar stool.

"Strauss," came her simple response; unable to hide her look of distaste as she poured him a heaping bowl of soup.

"Fantastic," mumbling; trying to steal a cookie only to get caught – giving an impish grin; taking the proffered silverware as she placed the large ceramic bowl in front of him.

"Eat up," she chirped; fondly patting his shoulders. "Then, you get cookies!"

Sitting down next to him, spotting the glossy print; her thick brows narrowed as she reached out for it; ignoring Spencer's shaking head.

"I mean, that woman," huffing with irritation; quickly flipping through the pages. "Who does she think she is?"

Reid could only shrug his shoulders; discreetly spitting the piping hot soup back onto his spoon, blinking his eyes as he tried to soothe his burnt tongue.

"You know, when I was just even a bit younger," crossing her arms, leaning back; eyes sparkling with mischief. "I had men, _begging_ at my door…like cats in heat!" head going back, with a hearty chuckle.

"Are you comparing the women Morgan brings home," his lips quirking just the slightest. "To animals?"

Her lips pursed and she shrugged. "I mean, my Pa used to tell me, you can put makeup on a pig…," catching his curious gaze. "But it's still a pig!" getting back up; pulling off her apron.

"Wait what?" scrunching his nose. "Why would a pig wear makeup? That doesn't seem sanitary, and I'm certain that's against the law-..."

"Oh, Spencer," giggling, messing up his hair. "Settle your mind."

Confused, watching as she put a new pot on the stove; deciding to chance it and quickly grabbed a cookie – shoving it into his mouth as she whipped around.

Glancing at his still full bowl, she was about to go on her tangent of how he needed a bigger appetite, with those slim shoulders and skinny legs of his – it was winter after all and he needed to bulk up…blah blah blah, only for the shattering of glass; somewhere from an upstairs window, stopped her mid sentence.

His shoulders tensed, waiting with bated breath for any more destruction – relieved when silence greeted him. Taking another bite of soup and grabbing a few extra cookies, he caught her concerned eyes from across the kitchen and nodded – it was time to head upstairs.

Following the spry older women up that old mahogany staircase; avoiding the few steps with their signature creaks, passing the new antique art décor that Morgan had just bought from yet another auction – one he hadn't even attended but had forced Reid to go, which he admittedly had been upset about but the old Regence chess set; made of polished marble that was now sitting in his living room next to the crackling fireplace, making the eight-hour trip completely worth it.

Not paying attention, he bumped into a solid force known as Anya; those narrowed eyes with that coy smirk telling him he was the one who would be going in first.

Squaring his shoulders; he twisted the intricate brass knob, opening the heavy oak door – revealing the dim office, with its enticing jasmine aroma. The furniture; a unique modern-vintage blend of crimson and onyx, matched perfectly with the dark walnut wooden flooring and the exposed brick wall in the back of the room. It was every inch of masculine sophistication.

Blinking; letting his eyes adjust as he took a few steps into the room – settling himself into his favorite leather ottoman, the one that reclined and sat catty corner to the old globe; resting on its wooden stand, something he loved to get distracted with as his fingers grazed the smooth surface of continents and oceans.

Anya placed the tray of soup and cookies on the coffee table next to the giant leather loveseat; raising her head as a throaty moan and feminine giggle infused the rather quiet space.

Reid blushed; instantly realizing their mistake.

"You didn't knock," came the surly growl from behind the enormous mahogany desk; the whites of Morgan's eyes and teeth were glittering under the moonlight that was peeking through the thick drapes across; what was now, a broken window.

"Um," Reid sputtered; eyes glancing around the room, trying to find an excuse.

"It's time to eat," came Anya's stern, and unamused response.

Reid arched a brow, lips twitching with the faintest of smirks – when the older woman pulled out the magazine and dramatically fanned herself with it.

Morgan huffed, sitting up from his relaxed position as he pushed away from the desk – rolling those amber eyes, when a pouty squeal from the women; kneeling between his legs popped her head up – short red hair bouncing as she indelicately whipped her mouth.

"Awe, baby," she cooed; flashy red nails crawling up his already opened buttoned up shirt. "We were just getting started."

He quickly grasped her wrists, nostrils flaring. "We're done."

The young woman huffed in exaggerated irritation and stood up…completely topless – her perky breasts something Reid hated he knew was not Morgan's type; forcing the young genius to quickly look away, suddenly finding interest with the southern hemisphere as he twirled the globe around, listening to Anya mumble something rather crass under her breath.

Morgan didn't bother to help; who Spencer recognized as lucky-day-of-the-week Miss Thursday, with looking for her clothes, and he was just about to let her know that her bra was dangling off the palm plant in the corner, when she glared at Morgan and suddenly twirled around on those deathly stilettos to give Reid a rather sultry look.

"What about you?" cocking her head to the side; licking her faded, and smeared red lips.

"Me?" Spencer croaked out, nearly swallowing his tongue; wide eyes locking on her puckered nipples.

"You think I'm talk'n 'bout her?" Brooklyn accent thick as she glared daggers at Anya.

"I-I…um, what?" Adam's apple bobbing; fingers clutched into the dark leather of the chair, as his intellectual mind raced to make sense of something so insanely out of his depth.

"You busy?" snapping her fingers, taking a few steps closer.

"Cherry," Derek barked, causing the taller woman to shrug her shoulders and slowly put her coat back on.

"Too bad," she giggled, light eyes trailing up his legs until she locked with his bewildered ones. "You look like you'd be a lot of fun," winking, and blowing him a wet kiss.

Walking towards the door, pushing her way past a fuming Anya – she looked back; giving the man still seated at his desk the middle finger, before haughtily storming out.

Anya tossed the magazine on the table; narrowing her eyes before going into a Serbian prayer as she quickly followed the woman; leaving Reid with a rather tense and disgruntled Morgan.

A few awkward minutes of silence passed with neither man saying anything – though it didn't take long for Reid's curiosity to get the better of him.

"The soup is delicious," clearing his throat; staying with a safer and neutral topic.

"I bet it is," came Derek's clipped response; followed by him pulling up his zipper.

"You know, this is exactly what she's talking about," locking his gaze, needing to emphasis the importance of this problem.

"Hmm," buttoning up his shirt as he headed for the coffee table.

"Strauss thinks your…," pausing, needing to pick the right words. "Your, um…ways with…women, are distracting you."

"Does she now?" stirring the soup, which had since cooled, before pushing it away from him.

"Morgan, it's all over the papers," uncrossing his ankles only to re-cross them.

"You think I give a shit, what this says?" teeth gritted, as he tossed the magazine on the floor.

"Almost half a million dollars," Reid gulped, feeling the darker man's fiery gaze on him. "That's quite a bit, to lose."

Morgan stared him down, but when all he saw was sincerity looking back at him, his face softened and he slumped back into the couch. "I fucked up," kicking his feet onto the table. "But I can get the money back in less than three months. Hell I'm gonna add another half right on top of it."

"Do you think Strauss cares about that," he admonished, doing his best to reign in his boss' cocky attitude.

"It was one chick," he growled; foul mood flaring back to life.

The pulsing headache behind Reid's eyes grew just a little more. Yes, it was one chick – one chick who Morgan brought home, allowing her the perfect opportunity to roll out of his bed and hack into the main computer – files were gone in an instant, as well as a minor dent in his bank account. It was a mistake of complacency that they could not afford to happen again; not when so many financial deals were on the line – making security their new top priority.

"You need to be more careful," adjusting his sweater vest, frowning when he spotted a hole by his pocket.

"Did you find her?" Derek arched a brow, taking a huge chunk out of a cookie.

"Yes."

"Did you send it?"

Reid furrowed his brows, and Morgan rolled his eyes.

"Thanks pretty boy," tossing the rest of the cookie on the plate – ending the conversation.

Spencer stood up, taking the plate of cookies with him – they were his favorite after all, and headed for the door; stopping just short of the hallway.

"By the way," mumbling through a mouthful of chocolate chips. "What did you throw out of the window?"

"My cell phone."

"Seventh one, this month," Reid reminded him, shutting the door; making sure to shout. "You really, need to feed soon!"

The pulsing techno beat; a constant rhythmic thrum filled with bass and electric static, from the club downstairs; filled the small, cramped San Francisco apartment right above it.

The stagnant, stifling heat, coming in from the open windows, made ringlets of sweat curl the loose hair of her spunky updo – the bright indigo and black highlights paired with a sparkling flower clip, gave the feminine blonde an edgier appearance.

"Jesus, you're beautiful," the man mumbled under his breath; scrunching her nose as the faint smell of liquor wafted over her.

"Yeah, less talking," hands; with dark plum nails that matched her glossy lipstick, quickly worked the knot of his tie.

"Whatever you say, Baby Gi-…," her fingers pressed firmly over his lips; dazzling hazel eyes narrowed.

"No, talking," waiting until he nodded; she finally shucked his tie across the room and then ripped his shirt open – receiving a low whistle in return.

He sneakily snuck his hands under her flouncing black skirt; fingers grazing her fishnet stockings, causing a low growl as she pushed him back onto the bed.

He bounced on her floral quilt and then chuckled. "Damn you're fucking feisty!"

Straddling his waist, fingers scratching down his chest; leaning close as she latched onto the salty skin of his neck. "Um hmm," arching a manicured brow as his fingers quickly worked the lacing of her maroon corset; feeling the stirrings of arousal pulse to life between her legs, grinding down as she rocked back and forth over his denim waist.

Anxiously waiting as he peeled the colorful fabric away; dropping the thick material and exposing her bare chest. "Oh, fuck," he gritted out.

"Are you just gonna stare at them?" she purred, fingers gliding against his belly button; teasingly dropping underneath the waistband of his jeans.

He quickly scooted a little higher up the bed, strong arms wrapping around her waist as he hiked her closer to him – those thin lips were just about to touch her smooth skin, when her phone went off.

The vibrating chime alerting her that she had a new email. The man looked up at her; waiting, and she shot him a toothy grin of encouragement; making him smirk, as the prickling hairs of his goatee grazed enticingly over her puckered nipples.

 _Oh, sweet Microsoft!_

It had been, so long…so very long, since she had a man in her bed, and the little goddess on her shoulder was clapping with glee, when the man finally surged forward and latched on; suckling gently and her eyes narrowed.

She didn't choose him for love making, she wanted – no, needed to be fucked. Her busy schedule didn't have time for that, nonsense.

"That feels nice and all," leaning back, trying to get his attention – only for him to bring his hand up to her other breast; rolling the soft flesh, pinching just the slightest…and she smiled.

Only to curse, as her phone went off again – this time followed by her desktop flashing to life across the room.

"Fuck me!" she growled, pushing against him as she sprung up.

"Hey, come on!" he groaned, trying to grab her waist, but she was still sober – and thankfully a lot quicker.

Adjusting her cat frame glasses; she quickly scanned the message on the screen – unable to suppress the coy little grin from gracing her full, pouty lips.

"Uh, sorry Tom," whirling around, picking up his shirt and chucking it at him. "You need to go."

"It's Todd!" he huffed, sitting up.

"Whatever," looking through her dresser, grabbing the first shirt – an old cotton Wonder Woman jersey; quickly putting it on, having the urge to tap her foot as she waited for him.

"What the fuck," he growled. "Really? You're gonna leave me like this!" indicating the bulge in his jeans, and she couldn't help the longing regret from flaring to life.

"Rain check!" she smiled, walking to her door – ignoring his heated glare and cursed-filled tangent as he stormed passed her.

Locking the deadbolts and chain behind him; she headed to the little kitchen – putting her old kettle on the stove with her favorite chamomile tea. Jumping when something furry rubbed against her feet.

"Oh, Zelda!" she cooed, picking up the tabby fur ball. "Mama, forgot all about you."

Her only response was a meow and a purr as she scratched behind the cat's ears; quickly filling up her food bowl, she headed back towards the bedroom – hopping out of her stockings along the way.

Sliding out of her skirt and slipping into her soft purple Snoopy pajama bottoms – she practically bounced over to her computer and plopped down; grinning when Zelda curled up into her lap and stared at the screen with her.

Reading the message three times, she still couldn't believe it.

 _Thee Derek Morgan_ – the mysterious financial mogul, with connections all over the world; one she had admittedly hacked before – not that she stole anything, she had just wanted to test her skills; grinning when she remembered how successful she had been, wanted her help.

 _Oh Garcie, what are you going to do?_

Looking down at Zelda; whose bright green eyes sparkled back at her – she knew her answer.

Quickly typing up a message, and hitting send.

"Looks like we're moving to Virginia."


	3. Chapter 3

The chilled, murky waters underneath the Golden Gate Bridge beautifully reflected the sunlight – making the dark, swirling blue depths with the large white swells; crashing back onto the beach, look clean and inviting.

Unzipping her black leather jacket; relishing in the pleasant breeze that cooled her heated skin, she couldn't help but to take a deep, calming breath of the familiar and enticing coastal atmosphere – desperately trying to imprint that soothing salty aroma in her mind for future comfort as her heart already ached with dull longing for the place that has always been her home.

Distracting herself from wayward thoughts, she took a tepid sip of her mocha latte only to burn her tongue – smiling to herself, Garcia wasn't about to let the stinging pain ruin her last day in San Francisco; not when she was at her favorite internet café with her bestie Jennifer Jareau.

The kindred spirits were longtime friends but almost complete polar opposites. The only noticeable thing that they had in common was their blonde hair and even then that was different. Where Penelope had a wild, curly mane of honey locks and indigo and black streaks, JJ's hair was in a sleek low ponytail with a perfectly curled bang.

And the differences didn't stop there, while wearing one of her beloved corsets, bright green fishnet stockings, a skirt that was teetering on the edge of indecent, and thick chunky boots, Penelope could easily make Frankenstein jealous. Her companion for coffee, on the other hand, was wearing a simple light yellow sleeveless blouse and white high-waisted short shorts and matching white leather sandals.

The duo was like two peas in a very unique pod – one outrageously vibrant, the other subtle and chic, though they had been inseparable these last few years and Penelope was going to miss her dearly.

Following her friends gaze out towards the bay and taking a few moments to watch the ferry passing underneath the bridge, Penelope finally decided to drop her news on JJ.

"Garcia are you sure about this? I mean how much do you even know about this Derek Morgan?" came JJ's clipped response; wide, bright blue eyes and thin brows furrowed with concern.

"Jayje I'm not completely crazy. I did do some research," she shrugged, innocently twirling a dark lock of hair.

"You mean you hacked into his shit and dug around where you didn't belong," she nearly growled.

It was Penelope's turn to stare back in shock; mouth falling open into a little 'O' – it was very rare for her poised friend to curse, which meant she was in trouble and had to do some quick damage control.

With a giant grin plastered on her face; hell she even batted her long lashes, Penelope chuckled and said, "See this is why you're my best friend. You know me so well."

JJ stared back over the rim of the porcelain mug, which had one too many shots of espresso in it, and rolled her eyes.

"Alright so give up the goods on Mr. Morgan. I heard it's almost impossible to get a meeting with him and he never does interviews," with a dainty wrinkle of her nose, JJ added, "I also heard he is kind of a man-slut."

"Well I can attest to the impossible seeing him. He's not just busy, the man is as elusive as they come. It took me awhile to even find a recent picture of him," she huffed in annoyance; Penelope liked to believe her hacking skills were a lot better than that – in fact she knew they were, she just needed some extra time to crack the coded world of Mr. Morgan.

"Ooh tell me more."

"Okay so I got a look at some of his investments and he's rich. Like crazy, stupid rich. For him acquiring a company is a game that he takes very seriously. He has recently purchased an internet security firm and he sent me an email asking me to overhaul it. Apparently some girl he was banging snuck out of his bed and hacked her way in. In my opinion if she was better she would have been able to do it remotely," the smug little smile graced Penelope's lips and she had to admit that she was definitely being a bit haughty.

"Well not everyone is you Garcie," JJ chuckled while greedily buttering a warm croissant – something Penelope had to admit drove her crazy, it wasn't fair that JJ could eat the whole bread basket and not gain an ounce while she could stare at a crouton and gain five pounds.

Adding a ton of parmesan to her salad, she aggressively stabbed her leafy lunch and continued.

"Anyway, Morgan trusted this company to keep his investments safe. When they failed to do so he bought the company and fired everyone. He wants to start all over and repair the reputation of this company. He's even changing the name," tossing her fork down; she leaned back in the chair, crossed her legs and fiddled with the bow of her corset.

"Wow. That's really impressive that he's trusting you with all of _this_ ," JJ waved her hand around, still trying to grasp the importance of it all.

"Tell me about it," after blowing a lock of hair out of her face Penelope added, "I was doing some projections and this company stands to make billions. That's billions with a capital b. That's a lot of responsibility for this tech goddess."

"If anyone can handle this, it's you. I know you can do this," JJ flashed her a toothy smile and winked.

After sitting sometime in companionable silence Penelope looked away from a ferry full of tourists coming to a slow stop to take pictures, to look at JJ who was practically chewing off her bottom lip.

"What's up JJ?" Penelope shifted in her seat, having noticed her nervous energy.

"I was just thinking that I'm really going to miss you Penelope Garcia."

"I'm going to miss you so much Jayje. Who else am I going to text when I do my walk of shame?"

JJ rolled her eyes and said, "One day Miss. Garcia you are going to meet a man that is going to be on equal footing with you and might be able to tame you just a little."

Penelope snorted and tossed back her bright curls "Even if he is on even footing as me, somehow I'll still bring him to his knees," adding a coy, little smirk and waggle of her manicured brows.

"Wild woman." JJ playfully chided.

"Prude," Penelope shot back with a chuckle.

After getting up from the table the two blondes were occupying, they threw their trash away in a nearby receptacle, linking their arms and walked towards the front of the internet cafe.

"So I was thinking packing party at my place," Penelope smiled, as she unwrapped a peppermint candy.

"I'll see you at six," JJ giggled, giving her friend a quick hug before heading towards her car.

"How many corsets do you need?" JJ hollered from her bedroom, only to emerge with a red face and matted bangs as she dropped a giant box filled with colorful fabric on the coffee table.

"Well…I…you never know…there's different occasions," she mumbled under her breath, as she turned the heat up on the kettle and grabbed a tin of chamomile tea. "And they need to match my shoes."

JJ took a big swig of water and glared. "Garcia," she tutted. "You did pack your shoes, didn't you?"

Her hazel eyes darted around the room, catching Zelda's inquisitive green orbs staring back at her – the cat seeming to purr in amusement.

"Well, you see…" she started.

"Nope, no way am I packing _all_ your shoes!"

Garcia pouted, holding up a few of her troll dolls and gestured to the box that was overflowing with color. "But Jayje, look how good you packed the corsets!"

JJ arched a brow and plopped down on the couch, taking a moment to pet Zelda behind the ears. "Yeah, those puppy eyes aren't going to work on me Missy. There's still two more boxes to fill with these lace up things you insist on having."

"Drats!" tossing the fun toys into a box, she took a quick glance around her cramped apartment filled with half empty boxes and overstuffed duffel bags, and sighed – obviously she hadn't thought this through.

When had she collected so much… _stuff_?

Glancing at the little robotic clock, she felt an overwhelming knot twist in her stomach – there was only three hours left until she had to catch a flight to Virginia.

JJ had been watching Penelope closely and could read her like a book.

"Hey," she smiled, picking up her furry friend and walked into the little kitchenette. "We'll pack the most important things now and then I can send the rest of it to you once you get settled."

"Bernie won't like that very much," Garcia giggled as she lifted an old glitter spackled jewelry and sewing kit – reminding her that she needed to fix that old denim jacket she had torn a few weeks ago.

"Please lil Ol' Bernie will do just about anything for you PG," JJ rolled her eyes and exchanged the cat for the jewelry, perching herself up on the ledge of the counter as she searched through the assortment of dazzling rings and broaches.

Penelope hugged Zelda, letting the cat climb its way onto her shoulders and frowned – yes Bernie, her very senile landlord who had a horrible habit of staring at her chest during every conversation and often forgot to pay the electric bill on time during winter was also the one who had let her get away with quite a bit of shenanigans while living here – like getting to keep Zelda, even though he had a strict no pet policy or not evicting her that one time when she accidentally caused a blackout for the whole complex when she got a little carried away while hacking.

Yes, Bernie wouldn't mind keeping her stuff here while she moved across country, but that also meant Penelope would have to knock on his door and talk to his halitosis. Wrinkling her nose at that thought, but then catching sight of all the things they still didn't have packed, she internally cringed at her poor luck.

JJ sniggered as she put on a large pearl ring and dramatically wiggled her fingers under the light. "Just think how mysteriously _creepy_ this new landlord is gonna be."

"Just because no one has seen the guy, my dulcet dove, doesn't mean he's creepy."

God, she really hoped Mr. Morgan wasn't anything like Bernie.

A melodic tune replaced the silence, as JJ's cell phone vibrated against the coffee table – cursing under her breath she ran across the room and immediately started apologizing. A few minutes later, having followed half of the clipped conversation, Garcia wasn't that surprised when her friend turned around with a regretful look on her face.

"Go, it's okay," she smiled knowingly. JJ did work at a very esteemed PR firm after all and it was rare that they even got to spend a whole day together without her getting pulled away.

"I'm sorry," grabbing her sweater as she enveloped Penelope into a tight embrace. "I'm gonna miss you, silly girl."

Garcia smiled, quickly blinking the tears away and laughed through a choked sob. "Not as much as I'm gonna miss you!"

It was another couple of minutes of hugging and shouts of who would miss who more until JJ finally left, leaving Penelope alone with her cat, a bunch of things to pack and only a limited amount of time.

"Come on Zeldy!" she chirped, heading into her bedroom only to stop when she spotted the many piles of ruffled skirts and dark leather garments and frowned. "We can do this."

Fiddling with the button of the purple plaid shirt she had changed into earlier, she took a deep breath and picked up a handful of scattered leggings only to stop when someone knocked on the door.

Running back into the living room, nearly tripping over her chunky boots she had kicked off by the couch, she laughed as she threw the door open. "Miss me already my blonde beauty!"

Only to step back in shock when it wasn't JJ standing in her doorway but the greasy blonde man with dark simmering eyes from last night.

"Hey, beautiful," Todd purred, quickly shoving his foot inside the door as she tried to shut it. "I missed you."

The strong scent of liquor drifted over her and the tingling sensation of dread shot down her spine. Taking a deep breath; plum nails digging into wood as she tried to remember where her cell phone was, or that bottle of pepper spray JJ had insisted she carry around.

"Todd!" she gritted out, eyes narrowed into slits. "Move your foot!"

"Come on sugar tits, lemme in!" he sneered and without warning, shoved the door wide open – sending her flying into the back of the couch where she fell onto a pile of boxes, knocking over the contents, and cringing when she heard glass break.

Zelda hissed from somewhere behind her, as she tried to reorient herself.

Todd kicked the door closed behind him, only to trip over her fuchsia duffle bag and curse. "You sure aren't making this easy for me."

Scrambling to get up, she made it to the kitchenette only for hot searing pain to tear through her scalp as he grabbed her loose locks and yanked her backwards into his solid chest.

"Let…me go!" she yelled, frantically waving a hand behind her – feeling victorious when she managed to scratch his face, though it was short lived as he dragged her further into the kitchen and slammed her into the counter. His heavy weight pressed her onto the cool surface, hot breath panting down the back of her neck as he trailed his fingers up underneath her skirt.

"Women like you…" he growled, fingers digging into her soft flesh, making her gasp as he yanked her head back to look at him. "Are little fucking teases."

Penelope saw the bitter rage brewing in his eyes, and felt anger coil in the pit of her stomach.

"Fuck you, asshole," the only thing she could do was spit and the moment she did, her head hit the counter – causing nauseating, white stars to burst behind her eyes.

"Oh, no Princess…" kicking her legs apart and lifting her flouncy skirt. "You owe me a good fucking."

Her body chilled with panic and a scream ripped from her throat as she violently thrashed against him – it was through that dizzying haze that a flash of furry orange jumped over her head and attacked the man restraining her.

"Son of…a bitch!" he yelled, letting Penelope go as he stumbled into the fridge – knocking over several magnets and bills as Zelda scratched and hissed at his face.

Taking a shuddering breath; mind slowly jumping back to life as she ripped a drawer open – shaking hands, trying to find a knife, a fork, anything – only to realize that stuff had already been packed up.

"Fuck," she mumbled, only to cry out when he tore the cat off of him and tossed the protective feline across the room.

Garcia only had a split second to see her little companion scurry under the coffee table before Todd's heavy fist back handed her across the face, forcefully snapping her head back into the cabinet. Trying to blink away her blurred vision only to see the vicious marks across his cheeks as he charged forward; grabbing a fistful of her shirt, popping off a few buttons as he yanked her towards him.

Leaning back as he peppered her neck with wet, sloppy kisses it was then that a loud whistle filled the room and a smile graced her bruised split lip.

"Hey Todd," she chuckled; tasting the acerbic iron on her tongue, waiting until she caught his eyes. "Fuck you!"

Reaching back, grabbing the hot kettle off the stove she whipped it around and hit him over the head with it. Grinning as the scalding water poured over his exposed skin – burning his face, chest and hands as he flew back screaming.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, muscles trembling with shock as she took a step back and watched him rip his shirt off as he slid to the floor in agony.

He looked so pathetic and now that the threat was subdued Penelope felt the anger rise back up, forcing her forward as she delivered a swift kick between his legs. "You, sleazy prick!" she gritted out.

As Todd withered on the floor moaning in pain, she glanced around her apartment, suddenly not caring for her scattered belongings. Stumbling away, she pulled on her boots and quickly gathered Zelda into her sparkly cat carrier.

After several frantic moments of running around, she was finally free – lugging her laptop, duffel bag and fur ball as she waited outside for a cab to take her to the airport.

It wasn't until the cool night air hit her bare skin that she realized her hands had gotten burned – glaring at the nasty red marks that covered her hands and trailed up her arms, wiping a tear away as it snaked down her cheek, she looked back up at her apartment window and frowned.

Yes, Garcia was definitely ready for her new life in Virginia.


End file.
